


If you have toast...

by annihilation- (horsegrl)



Category: GHOST - Fandom, Ghost (Swedish Band), Ghost BC, the band ghost
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Smut, light smattering of fluff, smut ahoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horsegrl/pseuds/annihilation-
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sleepless night. The moon on the snow. A midnight snack that turned into a whole meal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you have toast...

The night was still and quiet. The pallid glow from the moon spread across the floor and crept up the wall. It was that surreal time of the evening when the buzz of the living subsided and the possibility of the otherness seemed closest. The darkness was pregnant with expectation.

  
The night had not brought me any sleep. I had rolled futilely around bed for hours and, frustrated, I slipped on my robe and stole out into the night. I padded through the inky darkness, making my way toward to kitchen. A cup of tea and a slice of toast would be soothing and hopefully take my mind off my apparent insomnia.

  
I passed the rooms of the Ghouls, silent but for the odd snore. A familiar voice startled me, calling my name. Freezing, I heard the sleepy muttering trail off into peaceful sighs. "Talking in his sleep, eh?" I whispered to myself. Smiling, I pressed on. Even Papa's rooms were in darkness. I suddenly felt very lonely, like the last woman left alive, like an apparition in an empty house.  
Descending the stairs, I tread carefully, avoiding the creaky step to keep from waking anyone up. As much as I felt the ache of isolation, I didn't want to have to face any questions or come up with an explanation for why I was roaming around in the dark. I reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the kitchen.

  
I set about making my tea. While it steeped, I spread my toast with butter and honey. Licking the sweetness from my fingers, I peered out the window at the moon. "Beautiful," I murmured softly. The moonlight glinted across the snow, sparking like a cape of stars has been spread across the sleeping world. I felt my breath catch at the perfection before me. Papa's study, I realized, would have the best view of the moon at this time of night. Collecting my mug and plate, I padded silently on my way.

  
The thick carpet was warm and rich against my bare feet. I picked my way carefully across the room in the moonlight, settling in a wingback chair. I tucked my feet under myself,wiggling my toes into the sheepskin draped across the seat and arm of the chair. I clutched the mug in both hands and held it to my chest, sighing as the heat suffused into my core. Soon enough, the mug was drained, and all that was left of the toast are some crumbs and sticky fingers.

  
I nestled contentedly into the chair as I began to suck at the sweet remains of the honey on my fingers. I allowed my thoughts to wander as I gazed out across the frozen landscape.  
My trance was broken as a hand gently closed on my wrist, pulling my still sticky thumb from my mouth. I gave a small squeak as I turned to see who has broken my reverie. It's him, I realized. My sleep talker. I smiled softly up at him. He sat on the arm of the chair, still holding my wrist in his large, warm hand.  
"I couldn't sleep," I said, "and the moon on the snow was..." I turned back to the window and sighed deeply, relaxing once again. His familiar presence was comforting. This was not the first time he had sought me out in the darkness. His own mind was as restless as my own, by times.

  
"I had a dream about you," he began. "I dreamed you were calling to me through a blizzard. Every time I caught up to you, you ran away again." He snorted and gave a shrug. "It was much more upsetting than it sounds. I woke up and went," he shook his head. Emotion had begun to creep into his voice. "This sounds so silly, but I went to check on you, and you actually were gone." I turned to face him as best I could in the chair. His eyes twinkled in his black mask as he searched my face. "Then I smelled toast, and I just followed my nose." He laughed, bringing my sticky hand up toward his face. Pausing, he continued brightly, "Where's my toast, huh?"  
I was surprised by the depth of emotion he has shown when he spoke of his dream. This was more than I had bargained for, especially at this hour of the night. Then again, the veil was thin at this hour and anything felt possible.

  
"Out in the bread bag," I quipped dryly.

  
"Oh, I see," his eyes crinkled with mirth. He stood up, still holding my wrist, and walked around in front of my chair. Kneeling on the floor before me, he continued: "I guess I'll have to make do with the leftovers."  
Before I could make a smart retort, he brought my hand up and slipped it under his mask. He rested my fingertips against his lips, so soft in contrast to the day's stubble on his chin. His breath was warm as he inhaled the scent of my fingers. A soft groan escaped me as he pulled two of my fingers into his mouth. His tongue is warm and yielding as he caressed the pads of my fingers. Lips tight, he drew my fingers across his teeth as he pulled them slowly out of his mouth. My breath hitched as he moved the remaining two fingers greedily into his mouth. I stroked his cheek encouragingly with my freed fingers, running my thumb along the angle of his jaw and down his neck. I could hardly breathe, afraid to make a sound and give away my rising need.

  
Pulling my hand away from his face, he let go of my wrist and murmured, "Honey." Rising up on his knees, he locked his eyes on mine. "I wonder if I can find any more?" He reached out and ran his thumb across my parted lips. My short breaths gave away my arousal, I could hear him give a soft rumble of approval.

  
He ran his hand up my leg from ankle to knee, pushing up my nightdress as he went. He stopped, thumb gently rubbing my knobby kneecap. He leaned in, cupping my cheek with his other hand. I nuzzled into his hand, kissing the tender skin inside his wrist.

  
His grip on my leg tightened. "Please?" He said in a husky whisper.

  
"Please," I nodded against his palm.

  
With that, he let go of my face and slid that hand under my bottom leg and pulled them out from underneath me. Unfolding my legs, he set my feet on the floor, one on each side of his own knees. Sliding closer to me, he parted my legs with his body. He was warm and solid. I could feel my own fire pulsing between my legs. His position between them was a promise of what was to come.  
He trailed his hands up my thighs, bunching up my nightdress as he went. Stopping just short of my mound, he removed his hands and leaned back to look at me. Taking in the sight before him, I could see his chest heaving in the moonlight. I felt the absence of his touch twisting at my heart.

  
I couldn't bear it any longer. Sitting up straight, I slid forward in the chair and grabbed him by the shirt. He was not prepared for this and I knocked him off balance. He fell against me, and we flopped back in the chair. His weight against me made my heart race with anticipation. I hooked one leg around his torso and ground against his barely contained erection. He slid a hand underneath me to grasp my ass and ground back against me. Breathless, I grabbed his face with both hands and pulled his mouth to mine. I sucked his lower lip into my mouth and nipped it. He wasn't the only one who could tease, I thought.  
He groaned my name as I let go of his lip. Taking some of his weight off me, he rose up and adjusted his mask. His mouth crashed into mine in earnest then. Lips parted as our tongues twined together. I ran my hand up the back of his neck and into his hair. The other hand, I slid under his shirt. I worked my hand up higher, by turns caressing and scratching his broad back. He groaned appreciatively into my mouth. Taking my hand away from his hair, I ran my fingers teasingly along the waistband of his pants. He rolled his hips, trying to make contact with my hand. Chuckling evilly, I moved my hand swiftly up his stomach to tug gently on his chest hair.

  
He pulled his head up from mine, "You, lady, really are evil," lust and amusement filled his voice.

  
"You, sir, have been misinformed," I retorted sweetly.

  
"Oh?" A smile bloomed across his face. "Do tell."

  
I wiggled part way out from underneath him. I sat upright in the chair, catching my breath. He sat back, hands kneading the soft flesh of my hips now, eyes hungry for more.

  
Leaning in again, I grabbed the hem of his shirt and began to pull it up."Evil, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder," I began as he ran his hand up my body, along my neck and into my hair.

Tugging my head back, he began to devour my neck. "Please," he said between mouthfuls, "do go on."

  
I was now trying desperately to keep my wits about me, but I needed him, his hands, his mouth, his cock, like the air I gasped for.  
Still holding his shirt, I pushed him back. He gave my neck a final lick as he allowed us to be separated.

  
I pulled his shirt up, and he raised his arms for me. I stopped with the shirt part way off, trapping his arms upright against his head. I let go of him and leaned closer as he began to wrestle himself the rest of the way out of his current predicament. "I...," my hands began to roam across his chest. "Am...," my thumbs flicked his nipples. "...no lady." I quickly ran my fingers through his armpits and down his ribs. I laughed as he made a satisfying squawk. With a final grunt, he popped free of his shirt.

  
I knew what I had done. I had teased and touched and done my utmost to drive him, and myself, to the brink. Looking at him now, with the moonlight falling across him, panting hard, I knew. I knew what was coming for me and I welcomed it.

  
"No," he said roughly, "that you're not." He grabbed me by the hips and pulled me to the edge of the chair. "And I'm very pleased you're not."

  
He pulled my nightgown out from underneath me and dug his fingers into my ass, squeezing hard. The pain was maddening. His mouth was on my throat, nibbling his way up to my ear. My hands clutched at his hips as he ground himself against my exposed pussy. Working his mouth back down my neck, he pushed my robe down off my shoulders. I pulled my arms out and cast it aside. He slid his hands up underneath my nightgown to cup my breasts. He began to pinch and roll my nipples.

  
Unable to control myself, I closed my eyes and cried out his name. With a growl, he abandoned his sweet torment and stood up, stripping off my nightdress as he went. Dizzy with lust, I gripped the waist of his pants. "Please?" I said, voice thick with lust. "I want you so badly." One way or another, I wanted him inside me, and I wanted it now.

  
The rest of his clothing was eagerly discarded, and he stood before me, slowly rubbing his cock. I leaned forward and licked his head, a quick brush. He was leaking. I pressed his head against my lips and slowly took him in. He removed his hand and let me fill my mouth with as much of his cock as I could. Pulling off, I gripped his shaft and began to stroke, making sure no part was left unattended to. I continued to work his cock with my mouth and hand as he ran his fingers through my hair, pulling it back out of my face. He held it in a loose ponytail with one hand.

  
"Look at me," he said raggedly, pulling my hair. His eyes locked with mine, and the sight of me bobbing on his cock was almost too much for him. Mouth agape, he watched me for a moment, a low moan escaping from him. Throwing his head back, he bucked his hips, nearly choking me. I kept going, enjoying the effect my work was having on him. Watching his control slip like that was powerful, breathtaking. Pulling gently on my hair, he backed away a bit taking his cock with him. "I'm sorry, love," he said, "but I'm not done with you yet."

  
Stroking himself, he knelt between my legs again. "Touch me," I begged. I could feel my clit pulsating in anticipation. "Please?"

  
"How could I deny you?"

  
Watching my face all the time, he slid one hand up my inner thigh. He reached my aching slit and found it wet and so ready for him. He began to rub my clit, and I grabbed my breasts, eagerly pinching my nipples. He abandoned my clit and began to work his fingers up inside me, first one, then two, and three. I bore down on his fingers, squeezing tightly. I wanted him to fill me with more than that, but I knew I would have to wait a little longer and bear this sweet torture.

  
A hand closed on my wrist again, pulling it away from my breast. "This one's mine." I opened my eyes then, and watched as he flicked my nipple with his tongue. I swore softly as his lips surrounded it. I caressed the back of his head, pressing him to me. Teeth plucked at my nipple, I dug my nails into his back and let out a squeal.

  
He groaned against my breast. "I love the sounds you make. Please, don't hold back. It makes me fucking crazy to hear you."

  
"Keep it up," I panted, "that won't be a problem."

  
He settled back down on his knees, his fingers still delightfully curling inside me. He began to kiss his way up my inner thigh. His soft lips and scratchy stubble were the perfect combination, burning up my leg.  
He paused for a moment, and withdrew his fingers. I watched as he brought them to his mouth and tasted me. I heard myself begging him for more. He stroked the soft flesh of my inner thighs, pushing them farther apart.  
With a groan, he laid a long, hot stroke of his tongue along the length of my pussy. I bucked my hips up into his face, desperately trying to prolong our contact, whimpering for more. He grabbed my hips and pinned me down. I bit my knuckle and ran my fingers through his hair as he continued with long, agonizingly slow strokes. He wedged his shoulders between my legs and dug his finger into my hips, effectively immobilizing me. "You're mine now," he rumbled against my throbbing clit.

  
His strokes shortened now, focusing on that throbbing bundle of nerves that was the seat of my entire being at that moment. I needed to keep myself together, I fought the orgasm I could feel building. I wanted more from him, I knew he had more to give me. I grabbed at one of the hands pinning me to the chair, clutching at his fingers. He took my fingers in his and held them tightly. Lips enclosed my clit now, sucking hungrily. I swore loudly as he flicked at it with his tongue. He groaned, and began to flick harder.

  
"Please," I cried, almost overwhelmed, "please...I want you inside me. I want to come with you inside me."

  
"Fuck...oh love...," he grabbed both of my hands and pulled me upright. Scooting back from the chair, he sat down and straightened out his legs. "I thought you'd never ask." He tugged on my hands.

  
I didn't trust my legs enough to try standing, so I slid off the chair and landed on my hands and knees. I crawled to him and rose up, straddling his long legs. He wrapped his arms around my waist as I kissed him, savoring my musky sweetness in his mouth. I pressed my body tightly against his, my breasts crushed against his chest. He reached down and began to tease his cock back and forth against my clit. I rolled my hips and dropped ever so slightly, dipping his head into my throbbing entrance. With a mighty growl, he grabbed my hips and drove me down onto his cock. Crying out, I tore my mouth away from his. He began to grind against me, burying his face in my neck. I rocked my hips back against him, still holding him tightly. I could feel him, hitting that spot deep inside me like no other lover ever could.

u  
"Please...don't stop...fuck," I yelped, desperately calling his name, over and over.

  
My orgasm swept over me like a hot wave, breaking me apart utterly. I screamed incoherently as I buried my face in his shoulder. I could hear him losing his grip, calling my name, growling loudly as he spent himself into me.

  
Gasping for breath, he flopped backwards onto the floor, taking me with him. I could feel the rhythmic pulses of my orgasm still rippling through me, beating against his softening cock. He gathered up my hair and picked it up off my sweaty back, gently rubbing the nape of my neck with the other hand. I groaned in disappointment as he shifted, and finally popped out of me.

  
"Come on," he said as he pulled me off his chest and onto the floor beside him.

  
I rolled onto my side and laid my head on his chest, pulling his arm around me. We laid there silently for a few moments, enjoying each other's closeness. He cupped my cheek and tipped my head back so he could see my face. "Would you come back to bed with me, love?"

  
Propping myself up on an elbow, I felt a crooked smirk crossing my face. "I guess it beats sleeping here on the cold floor," I huffed and rolled my eyes dramatically. I darted in to kiss him, grinning. He slapped my ass playfully.

"Seriously, though," I said as I swept the damp hair back from his brow. "There is nothing I'd like better than to wake up next to you. Nothing in the world."

"Would you like to make me some toast first?"

"Come on, then."

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written smut before, please be gentle *sweats profusely*


End file.
